Son of a Healer
by GuardianofGallifrey
Summary: What if someone noticed what was going on at Hogwarts, someone who most people forgot about? Poppy Pomfrey has some questions about Harry Potter, and is very displeased with the answers she finds, and takes it upon herself to raise the Boy-Who-Lived. AU after book one. Cross Posted on AO3, same pseudonym
1. Questions

Chapter One: Questions

Harry Potter laid in his hospital bed watching the retreating back of the Great Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry had just woken up and was informed of his friends' safety, and the destruction of the Sorcerer's Stone. Upon learning that he was again a target for Voldemort, who was in fact not dead, he was in a state of silent shock.

The man who had killed his parents had just tried to kill him. Again. This time, Harry wasn't even the main target. Harry being there and within killing distance had just been a boon to the Dark Lord. The target was the Sorcerer's Stone, a powerful artifact that had the ability to restore a body to the wraith and grant everlasting life. An artifact that was supposed to be protected, but whose "protections" had just been bested by a trio of first years. Granted, Harry doubted that they would have gotten anywhere close to the stone without Hermione's help, but the fact remained that a simple first year level Alohomora could have let any student get mauled by the Cerberus Fluffy, Hagrid's Most Dangerous Pet of the Week.

Unbeknownst to him, the Matron, Madame Poppy Pomfrey had heard every word of the exchange between Harry and the Headmaster, from the other side of the privacy curtain and was infuriated. 'How dare he just drop that on the poor boy and walk away talking about candy of all things!' she fumed to herself. Reminding herself of Harry's needs, she picked up the potions she had gathered and bustled past the curtain to Harry's side.

Forcing a calming draft into Harry's hands, she snapped him out of wherever his troubled thoughts were. "Here boy" She noticed Harry's flinch at the word "boy" and paused before continuing. "You need to rest. Drink this. It's a calming draft, so you can rest easier. I don't want to give you another sleeping draft, I don't want you becoming reliant on them."  
She went to move away but one look at Harry's face stopped her. His face was stony, yet she could see tears threatening to fall. In a much gentler tone than she normally used, she ventured "Mr. Potter, what is it?"

He turned to her and burst out "I didn't mean to, I swear. I had to stop him, but I killed him. I must have, he didn't get back up, I didn't mean to, I just wanted to stop him, I'm sorry!" and burst into tears. She froze, having overheard mentions of Professor Quirrel's involvement, and what his absence from the medical wing meant. She gingerly sat on the edge of the bed and took one of Harry's small hands in hers, noting the way it was much smaller than most other children of his age.

"Harry, listen to me. What you did was completely in self defense. You didn't mean to, but you are eleven, and have no way of stopping a fully trained adult wizard. What you were able to do was a blessing, even if it ended in someone's death. You must remember, he would have stopped at nothing to get what he wanted, including killing you and your friends. Remember that. You saved your friends and everyone in this castle." Madam Pomfrey then did something she usually didn't and hugged the distraught boy.

Harry stiffened, then cried into her apron. He was unable to remember ever being held like this, by someone who cared about his well-being. Through the fog that was his tears, he was able to mumble a sniffly "thank you", to which he heard a muffled "There there, child, just take your potion and rest, I'll be here when you wake".


	2. Suspicions

Minerva McGonagall sat in her recliner by the fire with a generous helping of Firewhisky in a large tumbler. One of her lions had gotten hurt by her creation. When she had initially created the giant chess set, she was told that it was protecting the Sorcerer's stone, and needed to be extremely hard to circumvent, but not to worry because it would be inaccessible to students.

Her thoughts drifted to her other cubs she had let down that day. Poor Harry, still in the hospital wing unconscious, had been forced to face his parent's murderer. Hermione Granger had been forced to watch her friend Ron Weasley cut down by her Chess piece, and that Longbottom boy, who had lain on the floor of the common room, petrified and unable to move for 5 hours until an older student (one of the Weasley twins on the way to the kitchens) had tripped over him and then released the jinx. Had she only listened when the trio had stated their suspicions this could have all been avoided.

She sighed, and took another large swallow of her drink, mulling over how to deal with the issue of the press, who would no doubt be knocking the castle doors down after finding out that a professor had died on school grounds during the school year. Sometimes she really hated being in charge.

She sighed again _'I really must stop sighing'_ and got up from her chair. She needed to see Poppy. Poppy would know what to do. If she didn't, then at least she'd have a calming draft on hand.

Poppy Pomfrey was sitting on the bed still holding a sleeping Harry Potter, who had finally quieted and drifted to sleep. She sat thinking, trying to piece together the facts that she knew about the "boy-savior". Why had he flinched when she called him Boy? Why was he still the smallest of his classmates? Why did he wear glasses? His father hadn't worn glasses until he was a 6th year, and even then they were a very low level prescription. His mother's eyesight had been perfect, yet Harry squinted at things when he thought no one was watching him. Then there were his hands, one of which she was still holding. They were strong, yet calloused in a way that was definitely not from a Quidditch broomstick or holding a quill. Much to calloused for a child's hands.

Frowning slightly, she shifted and drew her wand from her arm holster. Not many professors bothered with wand holsters, but being a mediwitch for a school of magical hormonal children, she had learned from several emergencies the importance of being prepared at a moments notice. She quietly muttered several diagnostic spells, and sighed in relief as it appeared that Harry's magical core was recovering quickly. Then she frowned again as she read the state of his body. The boy was malnourished. Not to an alarming extent, he had been eating the Hogwarts food for a year, but enough that it showed up on her scans as problematic.

Frowning even more, she started waving her wand in the beginnings of another diagnostic spell when she felt the wards on the hospital doors activate, alerting her to the presence of another teacher. She sent a glowing bear patronus out to greet the guest and inform them to please refrain from creating any unnecessary noise on their way in.

Minerva's tired face appeared around the edge of the privacy barrier, and immediately softened at seeing Poppy holding a sleeping Harry Potter. She approached the bed quietly, and making sure Harry was definitely asleep, gave her love a quick peck on the temple.

"How is he, Poppy?" Minerva asked, looking down at the young wizard.

"Not well, Love. Did Albus tell you everything that has happened?"

"No, only the essentials, he said he would fill me in once he finished clearing up the corridor and was done with the ministry. He did mention that we would need substitutes for the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor for the rest of the year, but nothing more than that."

"So he didn't mention that young Mr. Potter was forced to stop Quirrel" She spat the name "from getting the Sorcerer's stone, and that Quirrel is no longer with us?"

Minerva paled suddenly, realizing the implications of Poppy's unspoken words.

"No, Quirrel wouldn't hav-No, he didn't mention that. Oh sweet Merlin, the poor dear, Poppy, did he say anything? Is he-"

"I overheard him and the headmaster talking. It appears that Quirrel was unable to touch Harry without severe blistering of the skin, and Harry used this to his advantage, grabbing the monster's face, causing enough swelling to cause asphyxiation, and draining Harry's core drastically. Harry was sobbing when he told me, he didn't mean to kill him, but he doesn't know how to handle this. He's ELEVEN, he should never have been able to get down there in the first place! What of the protections? How in Merlin's name did those three get past the dog? And why am I noticing so much about this boy that raises flags?"

Minerva sat down hard on the chair next to the bed, staring at the sleeping boy curled up next to the mediwitch. Now that she took a long hard look at him, he did seem small. His brilliant green eyes were closed, making him appear even more young than he really was, and Minerva frowned. Were the glasses that hung askew off his face always that beat up and broken? She pulled out her wand, and cast a reparo on them, hoping to bend the frames back to perfection for the boy but the glasses hardly reacted to the magic at all. How long had he been fixing the frames? 'Wait' she thought, _'Harry usually didn't try to read off the board in my class, he would just ask Ms. Granger. How old are these?'_

"Poppy, can you check him over again for me? A more in-depth scan if you can. I have some questions, but we may as well make sure everything else is as it should be. As his head of house, I should have insisted on a diagnostic evaluation as soon as he arrived here after being left with those horrid muggles. Now that he is recovering here, we should make his recovery as smooth as possible. We can talk to St. Mungo's and try to find a therapist that deals with children, this latest escapade of his must be weighing heavily on his mind."

Poppy nodded, and waved her wand in a beautiful movement, causing a great many colored lights to appear in the air at certain intervals. After watching the display for a good 5 minutes, her expression darkened and she hugged the boy tighter to her side in a manner reminiscent of a protective mother bear.

"Minnie, I want to take him to the Goblin healers for a full diagnostic scan of his magic and past injuries. I don't want a word of any of this to get out, and the goblins do not sell their patient secrecy oaths to the press. These readings don't make sense, he can't have- I don't believe he could-, the test is reading his magic but it is reading it as two people."


	3. Confirmation

Harry sat in the Great Hall, the feast nearly over, still feeling the elation of the rest of the Gryffindors. He had directly contributed to their impressive steal of the House Cup from the Slytherins, thanks to his escapade in the chambers beneath the trap door. Truth be told, he wasn't as elated as the rest of his house. No other students knew about what really transpired between Harry and Quirrel, as it was believed that Voldemort had died almost ten years ago. Hermione and Ron had both asked Harry about what happened in the chamber, but Harry wasn't ready to talk about it with anyone.

Standing in front of the Mirror of Erised facing down a mad man and his servant had made Harry realize exactly how much of a fool he was to believe he could stop a full grown adult wizard on his own. He had arrogantly thought that he would be able to protect the stone when his professors had failed.

Harry looked at the feast in front of him, and picked up his fork again. While his appetite had fled, he forced himself to finish his plate, knowing that everything he could eat in the next twelve hours may be the only food he had for the next few days.

* * *

The next morning, Harry packed his trunk, taking as much time as he could as he didn't want to leave the place he had come to love with all his heart. He sighed, and looked at his best friend as the redhead was haphazardly throwing his belongings into his trunk, eager to get down to breakfast. Harry watched, very used to Ron's disregard for the safety of his belongings. _"All my things are hand me downs, and if anything happens, I have 5 older brothers who are constantly creating more hand me downs with no more Weasley boys for them to get passed down to_" Ron had once told him, while using his sleeve to wipe crumbs off his face. "_Plus, I take care of what's really important"_ he continued, as he wrapped an old pair of socks around a Chudley Cannons figurine he had received for a birthday from his eldest brother Bill.

Suddenly, Hedwig flew in through the open dormitory window with a small scroll tied on her leg. Harry smiled as his first friend in the wizarding world settled on his bed and hooted gently at him. Unrolling the message from the snowy owl, Harry read the missive.

_Mr. Potter,_

_Please make your way to the Hospital Wing to have your bandages removed and healing assessed. Breakfast will be provided. Leave your trunk in your dormitory, it will be taken to the train for you._

_Madame P. Pomfrey_

Harry sighed again_ 'I must really stop sighing'_ as he was loathe to miss out on one last meal in the Great Hall with all of his friends, with no one asking about the amount he ate.

"I'll see you after breakfast Ron, I have to go see Madame Pomfrey one last time before the train, save me a compartment, yeah?"

"Sure mate, get healthy." Said Ron absentmindedly from half under his bed looking for anything else me may have missed.

* * *

In the hospital wing, Minerva and Poppy were quietly talking about what they were going to do for the Boy-Who-Lived's future. The more in depth physical scans (as opposed to magical scans) that Minerva had requested had shown a myriad of troubling previous injuries, dating back from before he was enrolled in Hogwarts.

"If the tests are any indication of his home life, he can not go back Minerva! You know this! You are condemning him to more suffering!" Poppy growled, the use of McGonagall's full first name showing exactly what she thought of the situation.

Minerva hissed back "We must move subtly Poppy, Albus can not know. He was adamant that this was the best place for Harry, and after your report on his health, he knows what Harry has gone through, but insists that he be returned. If we stop him from returning to that vile place now, Albus will immediately know it was you. He still thinks me to be blindly loyal, he would not expect a counter move from me."

Harry chose that moment to walk through the door, and froze upon seeing the tension between the two women. Both turned to stare at Harry, who, for lack of anything better to do, looked at the floor and muttered "I'm sorry for interrupting Professor, Madame".

"It's alright Mr. Potter. Please, have a seat on the bed so we can get these bandages off, I'm sure you're tired of them" Poppy said kindly.

Minerva took a calming breath and said "While Madame Pomfrey takes care of your bandages, I would like to talk to you about important matters if that is all right with you Mr. Potter."

"Um, sure, I mean, yes professor, that is fine."

Minerva took another deep breath, and began. "It has come to our attention from your medical scans that your home life is less than ideal, is that correct?"

Harry looked at her with a blank expression, wondering how they had figured that out. "I don't know what you mean professor, its completely normal"

Minerva looked up from watching Poppy carefully unwinding his bandages, and said sharply "Do not lie to us Mr. Potter, no normal childhood includes over 20 fractured or broken bones, along with a whole horde of other injuries that most wouldn't ever acquire through a "normal" home life."

Harry turned away from his professor's angry gaze, not knowing what to do now that his secret was out. "It was completely normal for me." he said quietly.

Minerva looked at him hard, her gaze piercing through his thoughts.

"Did you tell Headmaster Dumbledore about your home life? As head of the Wizengamot he has the connections to remove you from your situation and place you in a better home."

"He said I had to return. Something about a protection through my mother's blood that will protect me from harm."

Minerva hissed, her animagus side showing, while Poppy's hands faltered in removing Harry's bandages. Minerva drew herself up, and mentally shook herself for losing control in front of a student.

"Well, they failed. You were harmed. I know about the style of wards that he set up, because I was there when you were left with your relatives, and I know that they only protect and hide you from You-Know-Who or any of his marked followers, any persons with creature blood, and dark artifacts. They are strong wards, that is for certain, but they failed if they can not protect you from internal harm such as that which you have faced. I need to think on your predicament and inform you via owl post when we have come up with a viable solution for your living situation" Minerva said, having regained some of her composure. "Have a good train ride Mr. Potter, I will contact you as soon as I have an answer to your living situation." Minerva then walked quickly away, planning on talking some sense into the headmaster.

Poppy listened to Minerva, watching the other witch as she finished her examination of the wound on Harry's wrist, now faded to a faint redness. "Harry, I know what you must be thinking, but nothing is your fault. Your relatives treated you cruelly, but it was not because of any fault of your own, only their own inability to treat a child properly. You are a wonderful boy, and we want to help you in whatever way we can, which is why I want to see a mind healer. You have undergone a traumatic life thus far, and more recently an event that you should not have lived. It is my conclusion that you should talk to someone trained in helping people overcome adversities. You may think you are fine today, but such an event will have an impact on how you see the world as you continue to grow. Professor McGonagall and I both want to help you achieve your full potential, but you can not if you are conflicted."

"You think I should see a shrink." Harry stated flatly.

"I don't know what a "shrink" is, but I do believe a mind healer and therapist would benefit you immensely."

"Well, if you can get my relatives to agree, then I will see a mind healer. You are, after all, the professional." Harry said with a halfhearted smirk, attempting to lighten the situation. He was uncomfortable, not used to having adults care about him, and wanted to escape from the hospital wing.

"Is there anything else you need me to do or need from me?" he asked.

"Yes Mr. Potter, your breakfast, wrapped to go, and for the next week one of these nutrient potion before breakfast, and one before dinner. Do not forget them."

"Yes ma'am. Thank you for everything" and with that, Harry hurried out of the hospital wing.


	4. Home-ish

Harry stood with Ron and Hermione, waiting to board the Hogwarts Express. The beautiful sleek scarlet steam engine stood proudly, puffing billows of white smoke that drifted upwards and mingled with the bright day's light clouds. It was a lovely day, but Harry didn't feel like appreciating the rare Scottish sun. He loathed to get on the train and return to his cupboard. '_Well, maybe I will get to keep the spare bedroom, I did grow some and couldn't possibly be expected to fit back in the cupboard_" he thought to himself.

"Harry, feels weird to be going home huh mate?" Ron asked, looking at the castle as he stepped onto the train.

"I'm not going home. Not really." Harry replied with a sad smile.

* * *

Somewhere in Dumbledore's office, a small whirring monitoring device sitting on the back of a shelf stopped working. Fawkes the phoenix looked at the device and again at the headmaster who was absentmindedly sucking on a lemon drop. With a flap of his wings, the device whirred as if it was working again.

* * *

Hermione's mouth was going a mile a minute in her effort to tell Harry and Ron exactly what she was going to do that summer. Apparently, there were several vacations lined up to France and Spain lined up, as her parents had saved up weeks of vacation time from their shared dental practice. Ron listened somewhat disinterestedly as his family wasn't as well off as Hermione's was. He was just hoping for a nice relaxing summer flying with his brothers in their orchards.

As Harry enjoyed listening to Hermione talk, he started to feel hungry. Realizing he forgot to eat his breakfast, he pulled out the package that Madame Pomfrey had given him. He opened the sack, noting the weird texture of the bag, and pulled out a sandwich.

Ron looked over, immediately noticing the appearance of food.

"Hey mate, can I bum one? I'm hungry again, and the trolley is going to be awhile."

Harry looked at the bag in his hands, knowing that he was holding a very needed piece of food, but sighed, and handed over the bag. If he refused Ron, he would have to explain to him and Hermione about why he needed the food. It was bad enough that McGonagall and Pomfrey knew, but if he could just keep it to himself then maybe he wouldn't be seen as weak.

* * *

The trio disembarked the train back on platform 9 ¾ to their waiting families. Mrs. Weasley quickly rushed over to Harry and Hermione, telling them that they both had an open invitation to spend some of the summer at the Burrow if their guardians allowed it. Harry smiled at her, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. Not that anyone noticed, the others were all swept up in the rush to exit the platform back into the muggle side of the station.

The Dursleys were waiting for him. More accurately, Uncle Vernon was waiting for Harry on the other side of the platform looking thoroughly inconvenienced at having to retrieve his nephew.

"Hurry up boy, Petunia and Dudley are waiting in the car." he grunted, as Harry struggled behind him with his trunk.

Upon arriving at Number 4 private drive, Harry was immediately put to work on chores. Apparently he was going to be treated exactly as he had been when he left. as he turned to leave, Vernon's voice stopped him.

"Oh and by the way freak, I don't care what sort of shite they taught you at that loony bin you went to. If one single freakish thing happens in this house, you will think that Dudley's eighth birthday was a walk in the bloody park. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME BOY?" Vernon snarled.

Harry stiffened, then nodded and mumbled "yes sir" before quickly exiting the kitchen to begin on the flowerbeds. That birthday had been awful. Dudley had gotten many presents, but one had promptly broken when Harry's accidental magic flared near it when Dudley had tripped him. After the party had ended and guests had left, Harry had received his first beating with a belt and Vernon's fists together. Usually it was one or the other and not too bad, but this time he had fallen unconscious and was thrown into the cupboard and locked in for a week with only a bucket. After that, being belted and beaten began to become a regular occurrence. Being starved was normal at that point, but he had always been allowed to use the restroom before.

* * *

One week after returning to Number 4 Private Drive, Harry was in the garden weeding again. The sun was beating down on him, and his back was sticky wet and clinging to the sorry excuse of a T shirt he was wearing. He was so thirsty, but knew that he could fix that easily by sneaking water from the garden hose. Unfortunately he could not fix his hunger as easily. It had been a whole week since he was allowed to eat more than one small meal a day.

He sighed and wiped his forehead, but only ended up smearing a streak of dirt across his glasses.

"Meow."

Harry looked up at the sound, and saw the figure of a cat sitting on the fence of the neighbors yard. The cat was blurry from the sorry state of his glasses, so he took off his glasses to wipe away the grime with his shirt. He put his glasses back on and looked up but the cat was gone. Instead, there was a note in her place.

Harry glanced around to see if he was being watched, then quickly scurried over and grabbed the note before bending down again, pretending to weed.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_I hope that you are well this summer, and are working hard on getting you out of that home. Professor Dumbledore has stated that you need to spend the majority of the summer with your relatives, but then you may be taken to the Weasleys' for the remainder of the summer. We will be in contact with your family when the time is closer to your stay with the at the Burrow. Do not forget your nutrient potions._

_Madam Pomfrey_

_P.S. Hopefully the bag I charmed to refill with sandwiches from the Hogwarts Kitchen has been helpful._

As Harry read the post script, he silently started crying.

The cat with spectacle markings around her eyes had been watching, and dashed off between two houses, then disappeared with a crack


	5. Reprieve

Minerva had been ranting for upwards of an hour out loud but to herself by the time Poppy came home from the hospital wing. As it was summer, teachers were not required to live at the school and the pair would often be found splitting her time between McGonagall Castle and their respective offices. Poppy stepped out of the floo to angry yelling and dishes being flung at the wall, only to be repaired and summoned again. _'Well'_, thought Poppy, _'it seems that she's gotten into the good scotch again.'_ Deciding to brave Minerva's wrath, she gently eased in to the room and asked,

"Well love, how was your visit?"  
"My visit.. How was my visit. IT WAS BLOODY AWFUL THAT'S HOW"  
_smash smash smash_. Three tartan patterned dinner plates met their maker against the wall.  
_'Oh well, as long as she repairs them...' _sighed Poppy internally.  
"Oh dear. Lets go to the sitting room, alright love? I'll get us a nice cuppa" Poppy tried, despite full well knowing that once Minerva started on a rampage, it would take much more than a simple cup of tea to calm her down. What a pity that a calming draft mixed with alcohol turned into a sleeping draft. Not what was needed if she intended to get any answers.

Minerva allowed herself to be lead to a lounge chair, and seethed while Poppy ordered a tea from one of her house elves. Once her tea was in hand, Minerva took a deep breath and started talking.  
"Oh Poppy it was awful. The poor boy was working in the yard. I know that doesn't sound bad but I watched him in the yard the entire day! I tried walking up to him but I couldn't get any closer than the neighboring fence. I couldn't even get within a block in human form! I had no idea how bad it would be. Well, I knew how bad it was in the past, but I had hoped that those awful muggles would have left him alone after the letters we sent!"  
Poppy thought about the letters they had sent. One letter, the one Poppy sent, was essentially a guide on what Harry would need to eat and when to take his potions, and what sort of activity he was allowed with his hand still building up strength. The other letter was from Minerva and detailed how Harry's wellness check was worrying and how a representative of Harry's magical guardian would be checking in on him at irregular intervals. The two women had hoped that the threat of visitors checking up on Harry would be enough to stall any abusive behavior towards him until the women were able to take him out of the situation.  
"Minnie, do you think that they even received the letters?" Poppy questioned.  
"Of course they did! He received his Hogwarts letter last year, despite running all over the bloody country. That means the wards aren't re-routing his official mail to anywhere else, right? The muggles have to have received them."

As the women stewed in their plans to retrieve Harry, they failed to account for troublesome house elves.


End file.
